Ahsoka's Journey
by Cindrollic
Summary: Ahsoka's arrogance has gotten to her. She must learn the way of a Jedi; Patience, control. But how? The answer lies not with Anakin, but in the past. It will be difficult. But before her story can start, the secret of the Malevolence Plans must be told.
1. The Malevolence Plans

In the blackness of space, a large ship screeched toward the larger Star Destroyer looming in the middle of nowhere.

In the cockpit was a man, his hands busily dancing across the console in front of him, lights illuminating portions yet keeping him in dark. The lights were out. The power was more needed for the medical room then his little alcove. He didn't mind. A gloved hand slowly pulled a lever back, and the stars in his viewport slowly replaced with the vastness of the Star Destroyer, the long row of small openings, and finally the hanger itself.

Under his feet a clamp locked audibly through the metal. Satisfied, he flipped a series of switches and buttons and the console powered down, leaving the cockpit black. Standing and striding through the darkness, a door whipped open and light shined in and he went through. Behind him the lights atop the dome of a droid came to life and its wheels squeaked lightly against the metallic floor as he followed the man into the hall. Moments later, the ramp outside the ship rolled out in one swift motion, falling to the hanger floor.

And Anakin Skywalker strode down the ramp, the ends of his battle-torn robes billowing and his hair a mess. In the doorway behind him, his astromech droid, R2-D2, paused before rolling down with his master.

The hanger was bristling with activity from the aftermath of battle. Ships were coming and going in a consistent flow, allowing Anakin to feel the true scale of the _Spirit of the Republic's_ main hanger, his own freighter, capable of holding just under a hundred men was a mere speck in the wide space.

Ahead of him, an officer who shared the same face as every other soldier on the ship was coming toward him, a datapad in hand with a stern gaze fixed on him.

Anakin didn't wait. "Make sure these men get taken care of," The Jedi Knight told the officer, walking briskly to meet him halfway.

The officer nodded. "Yes sir." He saluted without breaking stride, heading past Anakin to the ship.

Watching him charge up the ramp while pounding at his datapad, the General knew that those wounded clones would be in good hands. He made a mental note to check the infirmary after he got himself cleaned up. Taking a final glance at the freighter, he moved on.

The trek across took longer then he thought, having to stop twice to catch his breath and rest his weary legs. But he made it. The lift door slid open, and a loud, echoing cry of laughs caused Anakin stop half-step into the long tube. He turned to its source, and found a large clustering of white-armored soldiers, and like many times in the past his curiosity overwhelmed the nagging voice telling him to sleep, he went to the group and eased his way through the men to the inside of it and saw what they were all staring at.

It was Ahsoka. She was against the wall, sitting atop a couple of stacked up crates far taller then she. Her dark flight suite was loosened in areas; the almost over-sized gloves slumped over the box's edge. She looked almost out of breath. The light above reflected strongly off both the crates, gloves and her lightsaber.

He watched in fascination as she told the men about her achievements in the battle they'd just churned through. Kashyyyk and its Wookie inhabitants had been taken by the Separatist's, and the Republic was there in hours to liberate them. It was a long, grueling battle, but luckily the Wookies didn't appreciate being locked up in caves and branded, so the Separatists had to fight on two fronts, even with an energy shield around their base of operations. Ahsoka's squadron was able to find the generator for the shield, and she behooved them with the tale of how she took it out. But as she spoke, his Padawan used sweeping hand gestures and even her own sounds for the explosions. A pair of Vulture Droids had been pursuing her closely, and when she went between a pair of large, closely-knit trees, their wings caught on each other, locking them together as they slammed into the base of the massive trees. The resulting explosion weakened the bases, and they came crashing down, falling onto the generator sitting on the side of a hill and letting the Republic army swarm. It was over just minutes after that.

She concluded the story with a breath and after a long pause, someone to Anakin's right started clapping. He was soon joined by the rest of the group, which Anakin only now realized had expanded since he arrived. As it picked up, roars of excitement began, and soon Ahsoka was standing on the crates, grinning and bowing to the crowd. Anakin's ears rang loudly.

"Alright, alright, that's enough now, report to your stations." He ordered above the clapping. With a few grumbles, the crowd dispersed, leaving Anakin, Ahsoka, and R2 alone in their area. Without the cluster of clone in his way, R2 rolled to them, chirping in annoyance with his dome swiveled.

Anakin stepped toward the boxes. "Do you remember what I said to you the day you became my Padawan?"

"Yes, Master.," Ahsoka breathed in a sigh. "You said: A Jedi must remain humble in their duty." She climbed down and looked into his eyes. "Now, do _you _remember what _I_ said?"

_Great._ She'd been acting this way for some months now, speaking out against him, questioning his tactics and of the like. Is this what _his _master had to put up with? "That was a show, Snips. It was your way to escapade about your skill. It's not something to inspire your garrison with."

"Really?" She looked around, her expression innocent. "Did you see their response? The applause?"

Anakin stepped closer. "You've been acting out. You show off after every battle and _wait_ for that applause."

"What's wrong with that?" She snapped. "It's—"

"It's ego, Ahsoka. Ego and Pride."

"You're one to talk," Ahsoka murmured.

_Ouch._ "You—I—"

"Everything I learned I learned from you." She continued, raising herself to almost be face-to-face. "Fact."

"Well, then I guess it's time I taught you patience." Anakin said, moving his face to almost have their noses touch. "You're on lockdown. No starship practice, no drills, and no talking to the men until you calm down," He turned and stopped. "and _learn._"

"You can't—" But he was already off, striding toward the lift with R2 following in his wake, leaving the Padawan to stand against some lonely crates.

* * *

Ahsoka paced the small living space that was her quarters, fuming. The door was coded so she could not escape the metal walls of her single-roomed prison. _I am not arrogant, and I do not have ego! And where dose he get off putting me on lockdown? _She looked up at the crono hung on the wall. Right about now was when she was supposed to teach the guys how to flip a starfighter around on its back without blowing the engine couplings.

Letting out a frustrated cry, she kicked the small and only table at her feet, then threw herself onto the bed that took up almost half the cramped space. Something hit the floor.

Raising her head from the confines of her pillow, she rolled over to the edge to see what fell. Her datapad laid face-down on the floor. A bright light emanating from underneath it. Ahsoka reached down and snatched it.

The device was already on. She couldn't remember the last time she had turned the thing on—intentionally—herself. Weeks? _Months_? She brought the screen closer.

It was on the stored files page. Perplexed and listening to the burning in his legs from stamping about her quarters, she pressed the 'Previous Battles' icon with her fingertip. A voice began opening files, oddly announcing the title before it actually speaking of the battle. Ahsoka slumped back into her bed, listening as it cycled from one battle to the next, moving in order, but backwards. After an hour, the 'Malevolence ' file came up.

"—was only after the escape and rescue of General Plo Koon by General Anakin Skywalker and his Padawan, Commander Amuko Trayno," Ahsoka rolled her eyes. That was the third—_Fourth?_ time they'd gotten her name wrong. "that the warship Malevolence was revealed to have a massive Ion Cannon, causing any ship caught in its blast to shut down indefinitely. Shortly after acquiring the layout of the secret station, General Skywalker led an assault in bomber fighters with his Padawan, Amuko—"

"Wait," The voice stopped mid-sentence. "Playback the last statement."

"--that the warship Malevolence was revealed to have a massive Ion Cannon, causing any ship caught in its blast to shut down indefinitely. Shortly after acquiring the layout of the secret station, General Skywalker led an assault in bomber fighters with his Padawan, Amuko—"

"Stop. Playback the second half only."

"--Shortly after acquiring the layout of the secret station, General Skywalker led an assault in bomber fighters with his Padawan, Amuko—"

"Pause. Now cut out everything from General Skywalker on."

"--Shortly after acquiring the layout of the secret station, General Skywalker—"

"That's enough." The device chirped and the screen shutdown. _Shortly after acquiring the layout of the secret station . . ._ The memory of that day flashed into her mind, Anakin explaining the attack with a holographic display of the dreaded warship at his side. Puzzled, he reached over and flipped the datapad back on.

And found nothing. Her searches ended with a loud sigh as the voice told her the information she desired was not found, and asked that she double-check her spelling for maximum efficiency. She shut the thing back down and tossed it across her bed. It skidded off the edge and hit the floor. Then, closing her eyes and breathing slowly, she did the last thing she could think of.

She called Anakin.

Minutes later, there was a soft mechanized clamp on the other side of the room and the door slid open, her Master's presence shrouded from the bright light outside and minimal light in the room.

He stepped though, and the door closed behind him. "Have you finally calmed down?"

"Not sure," Ahsoka replied, standing.

"Well if you're not—" He turned and keyed the door controls.

"Wait!" Anakin stopped in the doorway. "I asked you here for a reason."

"And?"

"And something is wrong with the history files." Ahsoka told him, taking in a long breath before asking. "How did we get the Malevolence's plans and layout?"

He just stood there, unmoving. She could sense nothing under the shield of his mind, and every attempt to prod was thwarted. Eventually, his head looked down and his hand gripped into a tight fist. "Are you sure you want to know?"

What was the big deal? "Yes, Master."

His hand relaxed, then reached up and hit the controls. The door slid back down with a silent hiss. He turned to her. Even under the low light, Ahsoka could make out the sadness that laced the edges of his eyes and creases of his face. A glimmer caught the end of his armor and he came toward her, sitting on the bed beside the Padawan. For minutes he didn't speak.

"It was just after we got back to the fleet," Anakin began. "We stood no chance against the Malevolence. Our fighter's were still being prepped, but even with the firepower we had no idea were to strike. If we went in there blind, I know we could have been dead. And the Admiral agreed with me. So we sent out a plan to find the weak spot of the ship. . ."

And Ahsoka sat in silence as he continued telling the story she would never forget.


	2. The Story Begins

The _Redemption_, a large scout cruiser from the Republic's vast army of ships and fighters, capable of holding around eight thousand crew members including the hanger that took up half the ship, pulled in closer to the graveyard that was the Arbegado System. At the _Redemption's_ bridge, staring out at the wreckage of ships and destroyers with the faint feeling of sadness everyone could feel just from her distilled reflection in the viewport, was a young woman.

A Jedi. Her hair hung down neatly down her back, the brown almost blending with the crimson-clad armor. Under the armor were her robes, dark like her hair once was, hiding the figure of her grown body further. She inhaled the mixture of metal, flesh, and plasteel through her small nose. Her green eyes stared past the field of death and destruction and narrowed on the long warship in front of the systems brightest, red sun. Her cheek twitched a little. On her belt, the lightsaber reflected the pale red light.

It was her first mission alone, the first mission as a Jedi Knight. She wanted to do her master proud, but anxiety continued to plague her mind.

On the other end of the bridge, the door rose into the roof and a man strode though. Dressed in the outfit of a commander, his long strides here hefted with the weight of confidence and authority. His toned face was conflicted with a pair of innocent eyes. His dark hair was cropped short.

"Commander Galas," The man said after stopping short of the woman. "we are just beyond their sensor range and the crews await further orders."

"Thank you, Captain Motti. Let's keep the ship here, but the hyperdrive prepped. We may have to leave in a hurry. Oh, and how many times do I have to tell you—" She turned to him, smiling as she did. "—It's just May."

The man—Motti—returned the smile, mostly. "Of course, General. Must have slipped my mind momentarily." She waited for him to say 'May', but it never came. He instead looked over her shoulder, not very hard considering he was taller, at the sun. A heavy sigh came between closed teeth.

"This is suicide," Motti confessed.

May looked at him, adding to her smile as she laid a hand on his uniform's shoulder. He needed reassurance, and in the back of her mind, maybe she did too. "Have faith commander, we'll make it out of this. You'll see."

And with that, she left the bridge, the tails of her tunic shifting from beneath her armor's hold. She was in the hanger and inside her transport within minutes. The air lock shut before she had a chance to sit down, and the ship was off, lifting off the floor and passing through the containment field into the cold grip of space. A pair of starfighters followed closely, one on the left and the other on the right. Seconds later, they were in the debris field.

* * *

The bridge of the _Malevolence_ had fallen to a deadly quiet. And this little Battle Droid didn't blame them. The General was angry, and hadn't moved for over an hour. His reflection showed he was staring at the edge of the field, where the transport ship had escaped from their grasp, taking the secret of the _Malevolence _with them. White death among the black of space. Trophies hung from his metallic waist. His long cape was unmoving.

Perhaps this news would cheer him up?

Probably not. Slowly, the Battle Droid inched his way to the cyborg. "G—General, our sensor have detected movement in the debris field."

There was a pause. "More escape pods?"

"No, sir. It's moving too fast."

A longer pause. The General actually moved, shifting his gaze to the center of the field. "Republic spies have found us."

"Shall I prep the hyperdrives?"

This time, Grievous did face him, whipping around and throwing his cape behind his long mechanical body. The droid recoiled. "No! Dispatch the Vulture droids to deal with them."

"How many groups, sir?"

He did not hesitate. "All of them."

He and the rest of the droids of the bridge were off, busily pounding away at their stations to quicken the launch. Grievous watched each long-winged Vulture leave the safety of the _Malevolence_ with anticipation as they made their way into the field through any crack that they could wedge through. _They will not escape. _Grievous promised himself they wouldn't.


	3. Field of Death

The transport was not very large at all. It consisted of one long room and a small airlock on the other end with a door leading to it. The lighting from above was tinted red. In the walls were small screens bristling with activity, lights and icon appearing and disappearing rapidly. On the opposite end from the airlock was the main console and viewport, where a clone trooper sat at the helm, a steady hand gripped around the control yoke and easing it lightly in different directions when needed. The remains of a Federation Battle Droid bumped against the viewport. The pilot's chipped, battle-worn armor reflected little light. On the right wall, just a few paces from the pilot was another clone, this one's armor almost gleaming with an simple pattern on his helmet, one line going perfectly down the middle with another going across. He sat in front of a small, communication's server, a hand against where his ear would be. But she was sure he was doing it for her benefit.

And there was May, her back leaned against the only remaining seat behind the two with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs.

There was a soft bleep. The communication's trooper's head tilted a little and one of their fighter escorts drifted pass the viewport, swaying through debris in a single, swift motion that their clumsy transport could only dream of achieving.

"I think something's out there." The communication's trooper said.

"Droid?" Pilot trooper asked plainly, not looking away.

"Maybe." The other's hand was no longer on his helmet, now typing at the small keyboard on his station. "Something is interfering with the signal. Probably all these pieces of hull. . ."

May's attention drifted away from the clone's explanation and to the viewport. Wreckage surrounded them like great stone walls. The same fighter came up into view again, this time beginning to roll from one side to another.

Until it exploded in a brilliant blaze of flame of metal.

"Contact!" The pilot pushed the control yoke sharply down, and the ship followed, causing the ball of fire to be replaced by the broken bridge of a Star Destroyer.

May's stomach wrenched as the transport was thrown back up to its original course, now filled with long bolts of green energy screeching toward them from all sides. The second escort fighter was frantically dipping and weaving for his life.

"Get the shields up!"

"I'm trying!" The shuttle buckled horribly. The blue, long winged droids causing the blasts were now in sight. The shaking grew worse, and this time wasn't stopping. May's teeth clenched as she held the rests of her seat with all she had. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Blood pumped at twice the speed.

And it was suddenly over.

Her mind didn't relax as she looked out the viewport and saw a thin veil of purple around them, absorbing the green bolts like a sponge. Above them, the lights flickered back to the normal yellow. May unclipped the strap around her waist and stood, taking a moment to find her balance before walking up behind the pilot's seat. The shield held strong, despite the ongoing bombardment, a muffled pang sound being the only thing to get through.

"Repeat!" A synthesized voice called out from her right, making no attempt to hide the fear in his words. "Need assistance! Scanners are blown and surrounded by unfriendly's! Repeat!"

May glanced over the communication trooper's armor-plated shoulder and saw the main scanner view-screen. In the center of the green grid-work was a blue dot. Clumps of black, empty space—the debris, she summarized—surrounded the picture as the blue dot moved through the thin path in its center. The blue dot remained in the middle while the rest moved. In the corner was a bright dot with waves coming off it repeatedly. Red dots swarmed like insects on the screen.

"REPEAT! NEED ASSISTA—" The voice was cut off by static.

Eye widening, May whipped around and focused in on the corner of the viewport. And her heart sank. Far from them, between two burnt pieces of hull, was a bright ball of orange flame. The man's death hit her like a wave, and the new Jedi Knight could only look away helplessly. _Please, find peace. _

Looking back at the scanner, though, she wondered someone was going to say the same for them.

* * *

The droid approached Grievous slowly, his stiff, single-joined arms quivering as he did.

"Sir, the Vulture's have reported with two Republic fighters destroyed and are in the process of pursuing the last." If it could breath, it would have held every breath for his response.

"I will not let them escape." The general turned, and the droid realized how small he actually was. "Warm up the turrets. Set them for auto-fire on the field. Maximum sensitivity."

"But general, our fighters are out there with them!" But Grievous did not hear the pleading, turning his attention back to the debris field. The droid left him, attending to his appointed task, weather it liked it or not.

* * *

Slowly, the transport passed by another group of broken ships, its shield still being pounded from all fronts. Inside, nobody spoke, instead watching the pilot twist and lightly turn the control yoke. The other, in the mean time, contacted the _Redemption_ and informed them of the Vulture's prowling the area. May wasn't sure what they were doing to prevent from being seen, but she reached out with her senses and felt the weight deep in her shoulder blades lessen as she felt Commander Motti's presence.

The console on her right beeped.

She and the other trooper turned in union. The trooper with gleaming armor flipped a switch close to him and the beeping ended. On the very edge of the sensor view-screen, past the clumps of black, was empty space.

They were almost free.

"How far?" The pilot asked, not turning to look.

"A hair's breathe and we'll be out in the open,"

"Then prepare to make a run for it."

May turned on her heels to face the back of his seat. He did not return the gesture. "_Why_? As long as we have shields—"

The pilot pointed at a certain spot of his wide console. May peered closer to find a three multi-colored bars with a small plate that read: Energy/Power Reading. The bars, while not parallel to each other, were very far from the top. May grew cold inside.

"Get ready," The pilot instructed, setting up the power convergence. "Everything we got goes into the engine. _Everything_. Shields, main power, even life support. Got it?"

The other did not reply, simply nudging himself closer to his console and beginning work. With nothing she could do to help, May turned and headed back for her seat.

And stopped dead halfway.

It hit her like the starfighter pilot's death did. The ends of her finger tingled horribly and a nervous shiver ran down her spine. The air became thick. The cold knot in her stomach grew. Carefully, she turned to the viewport. The end was in sight now, a small opening in the closing distance. But something was wrong.

"Ready on my end,"

_It felt dank, grim. _

"Switch over . . ._ now_." The lighting plunged into blackness, until the familiar red-tinted light flicked itself on. In the viewport, the thin violet veil dissipated.

_At its heart was . . was . ._

The pilot slipped his hand around a large lever with red on its side, stretching his arm out to reach it. His gloved hand gripped the leather tightly.

_At its heart was death. _

"No!" He was pushing the lever forward when she reached out to stop him, locking the gears of it in place beneath the thin layer of metal of the console. He tried two more times, then craned his head back to see her arm extended at the him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Blue droids were everywhere.

The inside of the transport buckled, but May held her intangible grip on the lever. Her eyes stayed glued on the viewport, counting the seconds and chewing her lower lip as the end inched closer. When the shaking did not cease, the communication's trooper swung back around and almost slammed on his console with his fingers. The glowing veil reappeared outside.

The trooper was still yelling at her, she knew, but she blocked the sound and him out of her mind. _Almost there. Just a little further._ Gaps in the shield were forming, usually where enemy lasers had penetrated. The shaking resumed.

But it didn't mater. They were at the end, and with a heavy exhale, May released her hold and the lever was thrown up in a single push. A loud roar echoed from behind them and the veil shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Without a seat to contain her, May was flung back, her back popping loudly in her armor as she hit the large, metal airlock door. The troopers clung to their seats. All while the _Malevolence_ grew larger in the viewport, the three didn't pay heed to the blizzard of red death they narrowly missed.

* * *

Grievous watched in despair as the Vulture Droids he'd dispatched were destroyed in wave after wave, trying to change course—as their programming suggested—only to die in red blaze.

Killed, by his very turrets, no less.

It eventually ended. "How many were caught in the blast?" He asked the droid he knew was beside him.

"Four squads," A small pause. "Sir."

He tore himself away from the floating wreckage at the end of the field, all still bearing the Federation insignia under their belly's, to where the bright speck that escaped the maelstrom had been a moment ago. Now there were only stars.

Grievous abruptly turned and strode briskly away from the poor droid, the ends of his claw-like metallic feet clanging against the floor. "Which hanger did they land in?"

"Section twelve, sir."

"Send all active droids in the area to slow their movements."

"But sir, what if they're armed—" His question went unanswered as the lift door the general passed through closed.


	4. Storming the Ship

A single word can describe the life of a Battle Droid: Lonely.. You were built, activated, uploaded with layouts for blasters, battle formations and basic strategy, and off you went. Or at least that was like for Unit DP8-991. He went from one meaningless assignment to another. His success rates were lower then the rest of the other droids, yet the commander's never even gave him a second glance. Nobody cared.

He marched in union with the other soulless mechanic's down the long, muted hall, the clanking of their steps going off faintly in the distance. Their captain lead the squad.

The ship, _Malevolence_, was still unknown to 991. Even in the month since his transfer. Halls and passage ways just blended together. The same dead grey and blue colors were everywhere. And other then a few fires, little happened upon the warship. Sometimes the ship would shake a little during a testing of the cannons, but nothing else. He had never even seen a day of battle. That was going to change today.

The group tightly turned into a corner as one, and 991 was off by a fraction, almost colliding with the soldier beside him. Nervously, he twisted his receptor's,—or _head, _as organics preferred to call it—around, straining against the wires under his plating to see if _he_ was there. He was.

BJ4-828. Though constructed with the same parts and materials as every other droid, 991 could spot him in the crowd with ease. It was 828 who showed him kindness when he first arrived. The first—and only—one to give him direction when needed. To help him when his blaster jammed in practice. And there with a three-fingered hand to pick him up if he fell. If there truly was such a thing as a _friend _in this lonely, cesspool of a galaxy, it was 828.

His companion looked up for a fraction of a second, then looked away. 991 knew what that meant: _Talk later_. After that, the minutes ticked by faster as 991 and company arrived at their destination: Hanger bay 12.

Havoc spread like wildfire. Roaring flame clung to the metallic walls. Above them, the lighting fixtures flickered and sparks rained. A large collection of droids had gathered just beyond the flames, standing in single rows with their weapons resting in their grasp. Two stood apart though, apparently talking to one while the other gestured at what _really _caught their eye. The long trail of twisted and crushed metal and wires that started at the very edge of the glowing containment field across from them screeched down an almost perfect line in the center of the hanger, only to stop at the back-end of the large ship imbedded half-way inside the wall next to them. Smoke and dust hung in the air.

991 fell into line with the rest of his group as their commander spoke with the other group's leaders; distinguishable only by the yellow and green lines running parallel atop their 'heads'. The conversation was not a long one.

Gesturing at imbedded ship, one of the other commander's stepped aside and the droids took up their positions around the craft, one row ahead of the other with 991 and 828 in the front. 991 tightened his hold on his blaster's grip. At last, he would get to fight.

. . . Or not.

Nothing was happening. Minutes went by, yet the ship remained still and airlock sealed. The activity behind them had begun to die down somewhat.

"You!" 991 turned and saw one of the commander's pointing at his direction. But it wasn't him. The chip in the back of his processor was already activating, following the commanders outstretched finger to the logistical endpoint, like a red line in his field of vision. He was pointing next to him.

To_ 828_.

Taking the order, his friend walked toward the ship, hesitating a moment before reaching out to it. 991 watched in quivering anticipation. 828 first reached over and keyed the small pad next to the airlock. It remained dark.

He shifted to the door itself. Reaching up with his open hand, 828 knocked against the thick steel twice. Nothing. He knocked two more times. Nothing. He began a third try.

But before his hand touched metal, a measured beam of frozen bright blue energy penetrated the airlock and stabbed through his small chest. His blaster clattered on the floor. And 828 looked up to the flickering lights for a moment before falling back and hitting the ground with a crumpled pang.

"_BJ4-828!!_" But 991's cry was cut short, as illogically, the airlock door blew off its hinges and slammed into him and the few droids unfortunate enough to be behind him. Only his legs remained intact.

The others did not mourn. They just opened fire.

May leapt through the now open doorway of the ship, her lightsaber blazing in hand. The red bolts swarmed around her. But it was just like every other practice session she'd endured. Doing as her master had instructed countless times before, May calmed the frantic buzzing of combat from her mind and allowed instinct to take over. Droids fell. Laser bolts continued to come. May moved in closer.

In the now doorless passage, hidden slightly in a cloud of billowing tan dust, the two clones came through, each baring their weapons. Her plan was to have the droids focus their attention on her, letting the clones mow them down from the safety of the ship. But the pilot had apparently not heard her.

He brushed past her while he fired his two weapons off. It was a strange thing to behold. Their shots barely seemed to register in his mind as he picked one off after another. Odder still were his weapons. They were standard issue for the Republic Army, a simple black blaster with extended nozzle and sliding grip along the end, but May saw clones who held it in both hands to get maximum use, yet this one used one in each hand with a greater effect. Three more were strung across his back by a pair of cords. _When did he strap those on?_ Two more droids fell. He did not look back as he went into the gathering group of the machines.

The pilot, however, was a little more apt to the plan. He hung back, firing the large dark weapon that _required_ two hands to hold, if not to fire. The large barrel extended to the length of his arm with thin tubes looping and wrapping around it, ending at the wide nozzle. But the results were worth it. With the pull of a trigger, a cluster of droids were suddenly a group of well-scattered cluster of burning scrap. Even those who escaped the blast were thrown by the shockwave alone. Though the pause between shots left him vulnerable, May made sure to keep her distance when that energized pang went off.

Between the three, it was not long before it was over.

May closed down her lightsaber, breathing heavily with a shining gloss of sweat on her forehead. She took a quick look around. The hanger was empty. Ruined, but empty. Alarms had not gone off yet. But more importantly, her men were still standing. She returned her lightsaber to its place on her belt.

The pilot's armor was covered in an array of fresh scorch marks, while the others remained pristine, minus the thin layer of dust. Her own wears seemed fine. Without word, the three left the hanger and started down the hallway to their left, the ship being parked where the right hall was. As far as they could see, it was abandoned. The cold metal of the hall made her skin crawl.

_It's just so . . . lifeless. _

The trio finally reached the end of the long hallway and stopped, staring at where it split off into two different paths. Darkness clouded the ends.

_Oh no,_ May thought.

Abruptly, the pilot turned and started marching briskly down the hallway to the right, his weapons still in hand. May and the remaining trooper turned to each other, and he only shrugged. Turning, they began down the other hall.

____

It seemed to go on forever. Lights were strung up, but they were few and _very_ far between, May having to strain her eyes to adjust to the spaces of great darkness between lights. The few doors they encountered were all closed and sealed tight. May focused on the trooper's armored back, a white blur in her vision at the moment. _How do I talk to him? _She pondered. _Dose he even have a name? _She looked over her shoulder at where the fork began, now a faint speck.

"What did I do wrong?" May whispered.

The trooper stopped, bits of his armor clicking together as he turned to her. "Excuse me, General?"

"It's just that other trooper. It feels like he . . . _despises_ me."

"Maybe he dose." He began walking again.

"What did I _do _to him?" May asked, catching up to him. "I've never even seen him before."

"But he's seen Jedi before, and that's all the reason he needs."

"What's_ that_ got to do with _anything_?"

"He doesn't like Jedi. But since he can't do anything about it, he just tries to ignore you. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if a few of those bolts back there came from those blasters he carries." May remained silent.

"It's not you're fault, General." The trooper soothed. "Not directly, at least."

Again, May did not speak. The trooper's armor clicked softly with their steps.

"I wasn't there, but the rumor is that his group was on Geonosis with the rest of the strike-force. Some of the best close-quarter and sharpshooters you'd seen. Unfortunately, command gave it to a rookie. A "Padawan" as you call them, General. Supposedly, he was leading them on an espionage; disable one of the droid command ships and let them figure out where they came from and where they were going. But all he did was lead them into an ambush. Jedi was dead before he knew it. The group held them off, but without the cover or backup, they were picked off. Out of the original twelve that went in, only two came back."

May's mouth was suddenly very dry. "What about the other?" She finally managed to get out.

He paused, and it felt like eternity to her. "The air," The trooper said. "It was a breach in his armor. Just a small one, but it was enough. He died before they got to the medical frigate."

May wasn't there either. But she had heard reports of Jedi and Clones feeling unwell, even fainting after getting off-planet, but nothing of this sort. Nothing this _lethal_. She breathed slowly. The two continued to walk, entering another patch of black.

"What about you?"

There was another pause. "Nothing interesting I'm afraid, General. My experience is minimal."

May sighed. "Well, do you have a _name_?"

"CC-2285." He replied a little too quickly, his helmet turning around to her. She could barely see the gesture. "But my squadron calls me Comn."

Despite the darkness, she smiled. "Comn it is, then."

___

He was CC-6308. He would always be CC-6308. They tried to stick a nickname on him once. He refused. They insisted. A fight broke out. And at that end of that day, he was still CC-6308.

A thin door came into the view of his small light attached to the side of his helmet as he walked the narrow hall. He stopped in front of it. The controls were dead. He leveled Edge's blaster on it, forcing himself not to look at the small emblem at its end, and fired a single brilliant blue bolt into the mechanism. A eruption of sparks blinded his visor momentarily, but he did not look away or close his eyes. The plated steel rose up into the doorway and he walked in.

It was pitch black. His little light didn't have the power or reach to find wall. It only illuminated the dust.

"Switch over." 6308 ordered. His fingers slipped firmly around the triggers of his weapons as a wave of light consumed his vision in one, quick burst. Again, he did not react.

Soon enough the light began to fade and the HUD screen in his helmet materialized into an image. It was hazy and bright. Lines slowly shifted into loose shapes and finally became whole. Boxes were stacked high on thin shelves almost parallel to one another on the sides of the room. Small and large consoles were pushed against the wall across from him, arranged from size. Signs were posted above them, but he didn't give them a second glance, knowing it would take his helmet a few seconds to translate.

He started toward the consoles. As he passed the shelves he craned his neck to see, his small light lending help with what it had. There were no signs. Only gold-plated chips with bumps arranged in ovals and straight lines. He could crack them, but why bother. He passed the shelves and stopped in front of one of the larger consoles.

Laying the blaster in his left hand on the edge of the console, he began flipping switches and pressing any button that looked like it would boot the thing up. He struck gold a moment later.

But as the wheezed whine of the machine coming to life came filtering through, growing stronger with each second, his thoughts drifted to where they usually did: His squad.

If they were here, the mission would already be over and they would be in the galley back on the cruiser, enjoying themselves while debating on who had the best droid destruction story. It would be Grappler, he knew. The strangest things always happened to him. Or maybe Edge. Even though he was probably making the story up anyway. But there would be no drinks. No laughs. Only despair. Only grief.

Only CC-6308.

The screen flickered. Forcing himself away from the image in his mind, he returned to the situation at hand.

Behind him, the darkness stirred.

The key's he hit on the console echoed behind him. At first glance, there was nothing here he could use. Layouts of the rooms and a few maps of sections far from here were useless to him. Nostrils flaring beneath the helmet, he continued at it. Until . . .

Something heavy hit the floor. Instinct took over before his mind realized it. He whipped his entire body around, his free hand scooping up his other blaster as he went. But it was too late.

A single shot was fired.


	5. Leap of Faith

It was like an echo. A final, pleading cry from a great distance.

May looked back but found nothing, staring in dismay at the blackness over her shoulder. The door at the end of their hall slid up into the doorway with a weary, mechanical groan. Comn was standing at the controls, unhooking the small device, a simple light-up pad with wires grossing through a single hole on its top from the pried open panel from the wall and grabbing his weapon from the floor and walking in. With a final glance back, she joined him.

The cool air seemed to carry on past the mute darkness past the forced-open doorway. A shiver ran up May's back. Quickly, she reached down and took her lightsaber from its clip, but Comn beat her to the punch. A short stick of pale green light came to life in his hand while shifting his body to hold the large rifle in the other. Regardless, she activated the bright blue blade with a _snap-hiss, _knowing it would surely be brighter then the little glow stick.

It was not.

Even with the combined light, the two still could not see far. May was sure he had a function in his helmet to see in the dark, but she was not as fortunate. They were on a thin walkway, she knew, with no apparent end. And hearing their steps travel below and into the abyss around them, May decided it was best she remained ignorant. Eventually, they reached its end.

The path broke off in opposite directions, dead left and right. Down the paths and away from them, two ovals of yellow light poked out through the darkness,. But ahead was what they were focused in on. A console as tall as them sat on a platform connected to the end of the walkway, made of the same material as the floor. Straightforward enough. A screen took up most of it with a small alcove just below it. The light barely caught a few keys with strange marking on them. A single crimson symbol was printed atop the glass. The symbol of the Confederacy.

Slowly, Comn approached it, leaning his rifle against the thing and beyond May's understanding wedged the glow-stick into a crack between glass and metal. He had it up and running in seconds.

The new source of light added little. Nothing, truly. They were still blind, and the nervous shivers were growing stronger. The leather of her gloves squeaked as May gripped the handle of her lightsaber tighter, waiting nervously as Comn worked behind her back.

A filtered scowl came through his helmet. "I'm locked out."

"Can't you override it?" May asked, her eyes fixed on the shadows.

"I don't think so, General," He began typing again. "Maybe if I switch these . . ."

_Hurry. _May clenched her teeth to repress a shudder. Something was coming. Or perhaps it was already here. Static filled her mind and uneasiness settled into her stomach. _Hurry . . ._

"General?" May turned, still gripping her lightsaber. Comn had taken a step back and had his hands up away from the console, like a child who was afraid of loosing whatever he just did. She peered closer.

"What is it?"

He paused. "A layout. A complete set of plans for this station. Excuse me, General."

May stepped to her side and Comn resumed his position. He reached down and extracted a small object from one of the pockets of his belt, an average looking cartridge she'd seen countless times, the Republic emblem was sprayed on one side, half-disappearing as he angled one end into the narrow slot beside where the glow-rod was jammed. Comn dropped it in the slot and it clicked into place. A moment and a few pressed keys later, it popped out. He grabbed it and held it up to her.

"It's not much," Comn said. "But if we can get this back to the fleet, we can—"

She sensed it a second before it happened. The creature leapt out from the darkness, a blur with two weapons, a different shining color blade in each hand, coming down at them.

May threw her blade up with all her might a moment before he got there, and almost had her lightsaber torn from her grip. Her legs begged to buckle under the impact, but she held her ground. In the illumination of the lightsabers and glow-stick, May could barely make out their attacker. He was considerably taller then her, his chest ending at the top her scalp and kept going. The faceplate he wore looked like a skull. The light gleamed off the sleek, sharp portions of his large body. His yellow eyes behind the empty sockets stared straight down at her. More lightsabers hung around his thin waist and gleamed within the shrouded folds of his cape and rattled one another when he moved.

It was General Grievous.

Behind her, metal cluttered over the sound of their clashing blades. "_Go_!" She called, not daring to look away.

"But—"

"_GO!_" Exhaling hot air, she knocked his blades to the side and pressed the attack.

But saber to saber was not her expertise. Nothing was, really. Grievous blocked each of her attempts, his body and long cloak behind him twisting, weaving and bending like his joints didn't exist, only to end in the same way it began, his blades crushing against hers.

She snapped her eyes shut. The Force swirled around her like rushing water as she called its vast power to her, focusing it tightly inward until the knot in her chest felt like fire. Her eyes opened.

And she let loose.

The gathered Force-Energy hit, and Grievous was tossed at blinding speeds, the lower half his large body slamming into the top of the doorway that was once a dot far behind him. He hit the narrow walkway spinning, bouncing and going over the edge. His claw-like fingers dug into the path a heartbeat before it was too late. Below him, one of his trophies flickered out of existence as it fell into the pit. Slowly, he pulled himself up, to find no other lightsaber piercing the darkness other then his own. A glow rod lit the spot where she was seconds ago.

Growling, Grievous extracted another lightsaber from his waist, ignited it, and went after his prey.

___

The Force surged through her legs, lengthening and lending strength to May's strides as she passed quickly through already open line of doorways and finally emerged through the last and continued, now down a wide arched, well-lit hallway. The dark hues of grey and blue almost seemed to conflict with the light from above. It was not long before she caught up to Comn.

He was hefting the rifle with one hand, with the data cartridge still gripped in the other. She slowed considerably to his speed, now running alongside one another.

It was then, the stamping began. The horrible metal pounding/grinding against steel started muffled and distant, but grew louder with each step. May turned to Comn.

"Pick up the pace, trooper,"

"I can't," His breathing was ragged, hearing the strain to say those simple words. _Drop the damned gun!! _She wanted to scream, but didn't. He grew a fraction slower with each step, forcing her to slow with him. The sound became a thunderous burst for a moment, and both threw a glance back at it.

Then, something brushed against her armor. She looked down to find Comn's other hand brushed up against her, open with the cartridge's emblem looking up at her. _No . . . _

"Wait," May said, trying to push the hand away "I'm not—"

His arm did not do so much as budge. "General," He said evenly, cutting her off. "I can't run as fast as you can—"

"You would if you got rid of the blaster—"

"No, I wouldn't."

"But—"

"General," Comn said, his visor leveled with her innocent green eyes. "We all have a duty to fulfill," He reached further and shoved the cartridge into her unwilling fingers. "Do yours."

May stared at him a moment, her eyes beginning to water. Then, she did her duty. Swallowing hard, she blinked back tears and grasped the cartridge fully. The Force poured into her legs and she was gone in moments, leaving Comn alone with the terrible stamping.

Behind his faceless helmet, Comn's eyes were now shut. It wouldn't make a difference. _There'll come times, _he was taught. _were the technology won't help. It's inevitable. And terrifying. But when that moment dose come, remember, you were born with instincts; Use them._

He slowed his breathing to a quiet hiss behind his visor. The sound was louder then ever. Beneath his boots, the floor seemed to shake. He could almost feel the hot air on the back of his suited neck. A deep shadow consumed his armored figure.

Instinct took over.

Comn spun around and let gravity take him. The back of his armor hit the cold floor and he continued to go, sliding on its surface. Finger wrapped around the trigger of his rife, he fired at the first sign of movement—

And Grievous's left arm from the forearm down shattered into a dozen pieces, the lightsaber clutched in it's hand joining it. The sapphire focusing crystal exploded into a thousand shards, disappearing in the air before it could reach the ground. The cyborg's yellow eyes went wide with shock and pain and a horrible growl came from behind his faceplate.

A swipe of his remaining weapon ended another chance of attack.

___

Far ahead, May's heart pang with grim guilt. But she did not let it slow her strides. She couldn't. It was not long before she had to come to a dead stop in the large, empty archway at the end of the hall.

The archway gave her a wide view of it all. It seemed to go on forever. Despite the intense light from high above her. The massive space large enough for a fleet of ships was filled with red piping, networked inside and across the space with two thin wires ran on the inside the top corners, a track made for repulsion. Up, down, side to side. They were everywhere. Cold, steel-plated tunnels wrapped snuggly around the tracks, leaving only a pocket of space between it and the cars that went in. In the distance, looking almost like a mirage, a large barrier stood mounted, with tunnels digging into or twisting away from it into another wall or direction. And spread across the identical wall across her, archways like the one she stood in appeared as blackened specks, some with small ramps descending from their openings. She glanced and saw she had no such ramp.

She glanced again and suddenly she felt cold.

There were no tracks near her archway.

She turned. Grievous wasn't in sight, but that would change soon enough. May turned her attention back to the rails. The cars and carrier's were accelerating along by themselves, but they were out of her reach. Beyond her limited ability's. It took a moment for her to realize her jaw was set and teeth clenched.

A low humming came to life over the echoing sounds of the space, vibrating lightly through her head and down to her feet. From the blanket of black on her left emerged a carrier. One by one in order its many cars came through, a simple, metal platform almost as large as the arch. Clamps held boxes still on the edges. Just below them, the oval-shaped bottom, sprayed with the same color as the rails themselves, never touched wire or pipes, the wide cylinders vibrating from the blue energy surging within their mouths keeping it inches in the air. The cars were connected to each other by a thin, glowing cord. But what caught May's eye, was how _close _it was. Almost like it was set there for her. She poked her head over the edge and saw the rail below, a series of rods attaching it to the wall.

Lightsaber and cartridge gripped in her hands, May jumped through the archway.

She hit the platform of the first car hard, rolling and catching herself against the array of boxes, nearly pushing them out of their clamps and into the abyss below. Luckily, they held.

May straightened and stood, the rush of air catching her hair as she watched the watched the archway grow smaller and smaller. The final car came through the darkness and now the arc was out of her sight. Breath came to her lungs easier

Then, with a strained whine of machine, the carrier lurched to a stop.

May twisted her body back . . . and froze. The last car was stopped squarely in front of the archway. _No, no, no. _May surveyed her immediate area. Like the other rails, the closest object, a small hill leading up to a sealed door high above her, was too far.

Her heart pounded faster with each second the train stayed still. Her breathing stopped. Around her, cars seemed to accelerate away, scurrying into the great wall or into the darkness across from it.

_Come on!! _Her blood was pumping as she stood in silence. The archway remained empty. And just when it seemed she could take no more, lungs burning for air, heart about to stop in her chest, and fingers clenched so tightly the cartridge was flexing, bound to snap in half—

The carrier lurched and started down the track.

May was standing still, staring in disbelief as she looked back as the Great Wall steadily began getting closer. And despite herself, she smiled. The harsh light from above suddenly felt warm. As speed was gained, her hair was caught with it, flapping violently behind her and feeling as though each follicle was going to be pulled from her scalp. She reached up to try and hold it—

And stopped.

In the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement. May turned.

And her smile faded.

Down the line from her, he was perched on the other end of the carrier by his talon-like feet, digging into the thin layer of metal. The arm-plate on his right was missing, along with the hand and weapon that was once grasped in it. Jagged metal and torn wire stood in its place at the end of the stump. Beneath the skull plate, under the light above and cast in the eerie green glow of his remaining weapon, his horrible yellow eyes seemed to bear into her.

Then, his talons released their hold and Grievous leapt forward, crashing down on the platform ahead of him, the impact undoing the hold on the boxes and sending them over the side and falling silently into the black. Grievous leapt to the next in line and the same happened. Reacting with a jolt, May frantically jerked and craned her neck, searching for any way out. But the few cars that were still in the area were clear across from her, small moving squares in the distance. Even the rails seemed to far away. More boxes fell.

There were no other options, May knew. No other choices.

She had to fight.

Reaching down, May slipped the cartridge into one of the pockets on her belt. Then, gripping her saber with both hands, she watched as Grievous tore through platform after platform, her gut wrenching with every box that fell. When he reached the platform just behind hers, May stepped back, only to stop against the curved headlight.

Like a mirrored image, Grievous came down on her with sheer force. And again, May's legs buckled beneath the massive weight, but she willed them to hold. The arcing noise of their connected sabers rang horribly in her ears. Grievous pulled away, coming at her side. May threw herself forward, swinging wide at Grievous's exposed side—

And the two were enveloped by darkness.

The darkness with the Great Wall was immense. Muted. The glow of their sabers barely illuminated the dirty metal just inches above them. The screeching of their blades burning through and hacking through steel echoed dully against the rising sound of the speeding carrier. The glowing marks were gone as soon as they were created, becoming like a distant memory behind them.

The loss of a limb did nothing to slow Grievous. Like a an animal, his perverted strikes came in with every bit of ferocity that earned him his different killer titles. The metal talons at the end of his feet acted like a secondary pair of hands, releasing his weapon and flipping to snare it within the talons and driving May further back, the backs of her boots settling against the back of the front light.

He was a force unlike May had ever seen. The young Jedi Knight's own attacks seemed to barely register with the mechanical terror, her blue blade never getting closer then a few inches from his body. Again, her legs wanted to buckle. The cold, comfortable grip of failure beckoning her to surrender and let it end, but she chewed her lower lip and forced the feeling down. Light touched the walls ahead of them.

Grievous paused, stepping back and raising his lightsaber, then went back at her. But May wasn't going to give him the chance. Mustering her strength, May lashed out, bringing her blade wide and low to get under his. Faintly, she heard a clicking sound—

And the world exploded into white.

Exiting the Great Wall was like have a flash grenade go off in front of your face. Her eyes ached from the harsh light above. She snapped the two lids shut. The weight of her attack was gone and their blades connected in a short crackle before being knocked back. The hissing of air covered the mechanical joints as Grievous closed the gap between them.

Her eyes shot open from it. Watching as the light slowly changed into the image of passing cars above and feeling the air leave her lungs but not pass through her mouth, May lowered her sight to find a metallic hand with white plating running along the top and incredibly sharp fingers clutching her throat. Her eyes bulged. It was then she realized her feet were no longer touching the platform. May followed the arm back to Grievous, then the second arm on the same side with the lightsaber in its grasp raising over both of them.

Before it all could process in her mind, the green blade was raised in a single motion she barely saw and coming down in a single stroke. Then, remembering her own weapon and surprised to find it still in her hand, she threw it up as fast as she could. It barely caught Grievous's. The arm clutching her narrowly avoided the bright blue blade.

The arching crackle loud in her ears and darkness creeping into the edge of her vision, May suddenly felt that she wouldn't make it. Her strength was quickly ebbing. The clashing blades were coming closer to the top of her head. She could almost feel the heat. The claws dug deeper into her throat and blood trickled from the points. This was the end.

_No, _She barked.

Exhaling the last of her air, May threw all she had and knocked the green blade up. Then, using the small window given, brought her own blade down at an angle, skewing through the half-hand holding her. Her feet touched the ground as she inhaled a breath of sweet, delicious oxygen. The hand, however, clattered against the platform and went off the edge, bouncing against two other passing carrier's before plunging into blackness. But it seemed as soon as she got a break, it was over. The green beam of plasma came down again and to keep from collapsing, May let her left leg slide off, squatting the other and bringing herself down just before impact. She held. Barely.

But it was only a mater of time.

She peered past the blades and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw Grievous, the light above and from their weapons somehow both hiding his eyes behind black and brining them to life. She looked away. Her lightsaber felt heavy. His was a weight she knew she couldn't hold off. And when that moment came, when his blade would be too fast to catch and pierce her heart, May Galas would become nothing more then another lightsaber on his belt. A prize. Only a mater of time . . .

_I'm sorry, Master. I failed . . ._

___

They stood like skyscrapers, but they where not. They towered over her, but most things did. May had her short neck craned as high up as she could get it. Her eyes squinted to see the tops, but only the rays of sunlight poking through the leafs were visible, covering her and the leaf-covered forest floor with its warmth. May's hair had begun to grow out, yet the small braid hanging in the side of her cheek was neat and tidy. They didn't like it was it grew out too long. The fabric of her small robes felt pleasant with the light.

And it was the first time in the days since she was chosen that May began to question her new Master's teachings.

He had lead her out here into the middle of nowhere, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. "Master Vin-Kari?" May called out.

For a moment, there was silence. _It's alright, May. _She turned, but there was nobody there, just trees. And his voice. Commanding, yet calm. At times bombastic, yet at the same time soothing.

"Where are you?"

_Well, it would not be a lesson if I just told you, now would it, young one? _

_It'd make it easier on me_. She wanted to say, but aloud she said: "No."

_Good. _Vin-Kari's voice said softly._ Now, close your eyes. _

"Why—"

_May, do you trust me as your master?_

She stiffened. "Yes, Master."

_Then close your eyes. _

May did as instructed. The sounds of the forest became much more clear through her ears. The flapping of a flock of winged creatures above and in the tree's. The leafs rustling high above her and the ones crunching under her heel. Her breathing slowed.

_Now, find me. _

Puzzled, she opened her mouth to ask how, but quickly closed it. May had totrust this odd man, not just _say_ she did. Blinded, she began walking.

_Listen closely, May. _Vin-Kari said, causing her to pick her head up. She kept her eyes closed. _Sight can be_ _deceiving, don't trust it._ _ I want you to let the Force guide your actions. Let it fill you. Because only then, will you be able to find me. _

May swallowed. Then slowly, drawing of her memories of classes at the temple, began opening herself to the Force, a power she had yet to truly understand. A cold sensation went through her body, like rushing water, starting at her forehead and pouring through to her feet. She shivered uncontrollably. Yet as soon as it started, it was over, dispersing through her blood and seething like shadows with a sunrise. Her legs were moving a moment before she felt them doing it.

_The Force is complicated. It will take years, decades, perhaps, for me to share my knowledge of it, simply because I am finding new aspects, new views of it, every day. I cannot help but not. And I would have it no other way. It is our ally, our friend when in need and something that warns us of the unseen dangers in the galaxy. _

An inkling in the pit of her stomach rumbled lightly and May shifted to her right, narrowly avoiding the end of a fallen tree with jagged points that could shred flesh. She continued walking.

_Everything happens for a reason. We all have a meaning for existing in this life, even if we can't always see it clearly. A purpose that will drive us. Just remember, May, the Force will always be there to help guide you through whatever you encounter, to be your beacon in the darkness—_

May stopped abruptly as her small body came against something hard, unmoving. She opened her eyes and looked up. It was him, as tall and massive as the tree's around them. The folds of his tan robes fluttered with the small breeze. His lightsaber glimmered. And though his face was hidden from both his size and the powerful light from above, she could tell he was smiling down at her.

"but only if you let it." Vin-Kari finished. Suddenly, her doubts of him washed away then and there as she returned the smile with one of her own.

___

May suddenly knew what she had to do.

Grinding her teeth together, she pushed everything—_everything—_up, her legs, arms, and entire body, and knocked the General's saber up a few inches. Not much, but enough. Snapping her eyes close, May turned and leapt over the side of the platform, missing his green blade by a hair and falling into the dark abyss below.

Grievous turned, and as he did, the carrier did as well, twisting down the track and going into a tunnel embedded in the wall.

She saw nothing. She heard only air hissing by her ears. Her stomach fell faster then her body, but she hardly noticed. May couldn't have torn her eyes open if she wanted to, following the swelling feeling inside and keeping her arms out and straight as she narrowly avoided the many passing carrier's, barely falling in the cracks between tracks and moving platforms.

A thought flashed into her mind: Was she going to die? It was possible. A certain sense of acceptance came with the thought. Yes, it was possible she would reach the bottom and find nothing to grab onto, only grim death.

Another thought crossed her mind. Yes, in retrospect, she would accept her own death, better to die of her own choice then by the hand of that . . ._abomination._ But if her life did end, then the cartridge in her belt and the secret of the _Malevolence_ would go with her. Drops of cold sweat began to glide across her increasingly warm forehead. Her heart pounded within her throat.

Then, it was over.

Slowly, May opened her eyes. It was absolute blackness, and for a moment, she believed she truly was dead, until her eyes adjusted. She craned her neck and squinted her green eyes to see the cluster of light high above, bristling with specks of activity. Around her, the cold, muted steel was shrouded in darkness. She turned, only now realizing she was actually _standing _on something. The Jedi was standing at the end of a horribly lit, narrow hallway, slowly getting to her feet on the small balcony where the hall came out. Pale yellow lights were strung on the ceiling, flickering, fading away, or just completely dead. The walls and floor were layered in dust.

Her breathing ragged, May forced her thoughts to focus and sprinted down the hall. She reached the end and froze for a moment, the dead-end splitting off to her left and right. Taking in a breath, she reached out. A second later, her broke right.

The inklings that her master taught her to trust once again bared fruit as a minute later May found the small, rusted archway, a faint light coming from within. Inside, were three identical looking starfighters in a large, dusty space, all parked and twisted in awkward positions. The cockpit was slanted in the back with two large, bulky wings in front of it, all sitting on rusted landing gears that looked like they hadn't retracted in the wings for months. A massive steel door was beyond them. May could not tell where the light was coming from. Hesitating, she went in.

May chose the second fighter, its back against the door and closest to her. The cold grey was laced in dirt. The small viewports of the cockpit, obscured by rims that connected to the ceiling, were difficult to see through. The cockpit was open. May leapt up and cringed to the pain of her armor hitting the seat. Her lightsaber fell unnoticed from her grasp and rolled under the seat, where it would remain.

She flipped the age-infested switches and for a moment nothing happened. Then, the screens came to life and a moment later the landing feet, forever locked in place, were off the ground. May didn't know what would happen as she brought it around, wondering if the fighters weapon systems would be capable to blasting through it.

But her fears were unfounded, as she swung the craft around, the doors were almost fully-opened to the violet veil of a containment field, and beyond that, space.

Once lined up, she pushed the single lever that stood between her legs at the end of her old seat and behind her the twin nozzles blared with flame and the fighter shot through the field. May angled the fighter up and set her jaw, focusing squarely on the debris.

___

He'd failed.

The door to the _Malevolence's _bridge slid open and every droid turned toward it. One shrieked. One recoiled from the sight of Grievous's ruined arms. The door shut after he stepped through.

"Doctor!" Using the seared shrapnel of his shoulder, he hit a button beside the door controls and a thick tray produced from the wall and he threw his arms atop it.

The medical droid, the only one on the entire warship, came wheeling from the shadows. Made of sterile components, a large tray loomed over it, suspended by a pole connected to its back, an array of tools dangling in its face. In its hands were two full replacement arms. It was emotionless as it reached the table and, after grabbing the torch from the end of the tray, began to take off the first arm. It said nothing when Grievous suppressed a scream. It felt nothing as it pulled the first and second arm off, depositing them into a pocket on its side. It returned the torch and extracted another tool.

A cold, stinging jab of pain shot through Grievous as the droid finished the procedure, rolling back into its corner to await further instruction.

A beep came from a console behind him.

Coughing the bitter taste of smoke, Grievous turned. The lonely droid that sat at its station was looking back at him, shaking as he came closer and peered at his screen. The machines arms remained outstretched over the console. The beeping continued.

"What is that?" Grievous asked, turning to the droid.

"A friendly's signal, General." The droid almost seemed relived to say it.

Friendly? Out _here_? "Where is it coming from?"

"Well," The droid replied. "from the ship, General. Who else would be out here?" Its three stubby 'fingers' began to type. "We would have set out an alert, but with it being one of your old ships, General, we decided it was probably just you inspecting the debris . . ." It stopped, saying nothing for a long moment. Then, it's head clicked up and it said: "Oh no."

But no angry cry was called. No forearm plate removed its head in a single swipe. Instead, Grievous simply asked another question.

"Where is it?"

Slowly, the words came dribbling out its processor. "It just went into the field, General." _That's_ when the forearm came.

Grievous was moving before the smashed-in head reached the floor, his rage fuming through his strides was flame. Someone spoke up before that fire could become and inferno.

"General!" The droid called from across the bridge. "The scanners have picked up a large reading from beyond the field!"

_The Jedi lives. _Grievous thought. His new arm flexed tightly into a sharp-edged fist. _Not for long. _He turned and began stamping toward the poor machine who'd called out. "Jam them. Divert everything into it. And charge the Plasma Rotor's." He stopped, looking down at the droid.

There was a pause. "Yes, General." It began to carry out the order, the others falling into line with him.

Grievous turned to the viewport, gazing out at the debris field once again.

No, she would not escape. Not again. He would ensure that.


End file.
